


A Collection of Cotton Balls: 30 One Shots about Domestic Living

by sunflowersandsunshining



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Romance, one shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-19 12:52:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14874089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowersandsunshining/pseuds/sunflowersandsunshining
Summary: This was inspired by tumblr user melonmachinery's 30 Days of Domestic fluff prompts. I'll be writing 500 - 1000 word one shots based on their list containing all of my headcanons and fluffy writing about the Rutherford family post-Inquisition. I hope you enjoy!  (´• ᴗ •̥`✿)





	1. Waking Up Together

He takes my hand, guiding me through the darkness. I giggle. It’s nothing nearly as dangerous as our usual duties, and maybe this will even be fun for a change. 

“Inquisitor, watch your step.” his voice echoes in my ears. I nod, my thoughts swimming around the black haze in front of us.

We continue forward. All I can see is the faint outline of his figure, his broad shoulders blocking the rest of the path from view. I know this cave is practically devoid of danger; but the tiny chance of confrontation filled me with adrenaline. At best, we would have an exciting battle and get the blood pumping - at worst, I get to tell Cullen I’m “scared” and need him to comfort me. Win-win. 

Cullen stops. I stop. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I heard something.” He sounded worried. “Be on your guard.”

“I’m sure it’s fi--” I was cut off by a searing pain in my back, breaking me out of my love-filled dreaminess and filling my body with flame. I screamed, wordlessly, unable to move or get away from what was behind me. It felt like someone had turned my blood to hot oil, all of my senses quickly blurring into a harsh thudding in my head.

“No!” I heard him yell, the metal of his blade clanging to the ground as I lost sight of his figure.

For a moment, all I felt was pain.

Then the golden light of dawn cut through my hazy dreams with impeccable accuracy. It glittered and danced around our bedroom, illuminating tiny specs of dust and debris floating around the morning air. I took a deep breath.

I felt uneasy. It wasn’t normal for me to have nightmares, especially not when sleeping with Cullen. 

“Love?” I heard him mumble from behind me. His arms were lazily wrapped around my waist and I could feel his head buried in the crook of my shoulder. His breathing was slow and tired, gently hitting my skin as he began to wake up.

“Good morning,” I whispered. “sleep well?”

I felt him grin into my neck. “Yes, I did.” He said. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” I mumbled, my voice trailing off. It wasn’t. But I didn’t want to spoil his morning.

“You’re shaking.” he commented.

“Ah-- I… um… yes. It’s cold.” I responded.

He pushed away from my body and flipped me towards him. I squealed as he pulled me closer, our faces now inches away from each other.

“Don’t lie to me.” He chuckled, seriousness still evident in his tone. 

“I had a nightmare,” I said in a tiny voice. 

“Oh… I…” His smile dropped, and his laughter dissipated into the morning sunshine. “I’m sorry.” 

“I thought I lost you.” I whispered, my eyes shining with tears. I guess I still wasn’t okay with that idea. I was even less okay with it since we distanced ourselves from the Inquisition - death was normal in war, but in peace? I couldn’t stand the thought of it. 

“I’m still here.” he said, holding me close. The warmth of his body and of the morning sun filled me completely, lighting all the corners of me that I thought were frozen over, and I finally started to stop shaking. “I won’t let anything hurt you.”

A smile found its way to my lips. He smiled back, and I remembered that everything was going to be okay.


	2. Morning Routines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning struggle of the Rutherfords. Day 2 of 30.

We made mornings into a precise science.

First step: get out of bed. That’s harder than you might think, especially when you share a bed with Cullen. In every season except summer, it’s freezing cold in the morning, and that man is his own furnace. His robust figure is skilled with the art of cuddling, leading to endless amounts of “five more minutes, I promise” and “it’s too cold right now” from me, which he is prone to giving into. 

He’s everything good in life. He’s a strong man, soft but sturdy; protecting. But most of all, despite his protest and denial, he’s willing to stay in bed all day with me. Sometimes we actually do. Most of the time, though, we don’t. 

So that leads us to step two: get dressed. We slept in our small clothes, mostly, sometimes less in the summertime. Cullen always gently reminded me that, despite being in complete privacy and away from any prying eyes, the former leader of the Inquisition “must not walk around like that” when I tried to leave our room in my undies. 

Cullen always took longer than me to get ready. I need a hairbrush and my clothes, and I’m good. That man needs an entire staff of servants just to get his hair right. Oftentimes, I find myself sitting on our bed listening to him mumble to himself across the room about his hair and his coat and how difficult it was to stay presentable. It was adorable, but sometimes I wonder why he doesn’t just drop the coat and wear something normal.

Step three: eat. Well, I suppose first we have to prepare something to eat. The first few times we made breakfast as a couple, we absolutely took the chance to be as romantic as possible - he stood behind me as I prepared pancakes, sneaking in kisses and holding me close. But now? We work with efficiency. Cullen’s on bacon duty, as he - in his words, not mine - “knows his meat.” I always prep the eggs and fruits, making sure we don’t die of vitamin C deficiency. It works out.

Then we eat together, usually accompanied by chats about philosophy and family. Cullen’s demeanor is still dignified, surprisingly - you’d think he’d drop that act after three years of marriage - and I have got to say, watching that man try to eat a banana with grace will never stop amusing me.

Step four: chores. Cullen runs the rehabilitation clinic for lyrium addicts and Templars nearby, so this is the part of the day when we usually split off. It’s hardly even morning by this point anyways.

But weekends are special - Cullen sticks around and helps me change our sheets and clean the kitchen. Now, while that might sound incredibly dull, we are skilled at making the dull into delightful. 

Neither of us are really adults, and neither of us really know how to do chores exactly right. We tend to get mixed up and tangled in the sheets, giggling as we try to pull the satin cloth taut. It’s like two children trying to tie a bow but not knowing exactly what to do. 

Cleaning the kitchen is even worse. I’m not sure it’s really even cleaner after we’re finished. We really should hire servants, but I wanted life to feel more normal for the two of us - neither of us ever really had a normal childhood, or even a normal adulthood, and now we clung onto whatever piece of normalcy we could get. It helped us stay sane.

And that’s a normal Rutherford morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rutherfords go through the pain of washing clothes. Day 3 of the 30 day OTP challenge.

Maker’s balls, I hated laundry day.

We went through our normal routine until noon. Then it came. The witching hour. Laundry time.

Cullen always looked for ways to weasel out of doing it with me, but I never let him - it was a team job, and we were going to do this together. 

“Maker’s breath, must we do this every week?” Cullen complained.

“Yes, unless you want to smell like a nug’s ass,” I laughed, prepping the large wash basin with soapy water. “It’ll be faster with the two of us. Promise.”

He sighed, resigning himself to this most mundane of duties. I handed him a pair of leather gloves and mentally prepared for the upcoming few hours. 

Laundry day wasn’t just limited to clothing: it mean cleaning armor, and that meant scrubbing - a lot of it. Cullen’s collection of armor was extensive, complicated, and required special attention, and my clothing was just as bad. We had our work cut out for us. 

Not to mention that it also meant cleaning delicate sheets, tablecloths, and a certain templar’s giant fur coat. I am seriously considering hiring servants just to do this one thing for us. 

We started with the easy part: clothing. It was a multi-step process: soap, water, dry. I insisted we divide work to help speed everything up, but Cullen was adamant about sitting next to me and washing clothes together. 

“I thought you wanted this to be quick,” I scoffed, trying to get a particularly stubborn elfroot stain out of my best pants. 

“I would also like this to be enjoyable.” He responded as he folded up a still dripping shirt into a neat square.

“Honey, you need to let that dry.” I said gently, poking the shirt.

“I’m going to hang it up like this.”

“You’re going to do what?” I knew Cullen wasn’t the most skilled at domestic life, but sheesh, how inexperienced was he?

“I’m going to hang it up on the line like this,” he repeated slowly. 

“No, Cullen, you cannot do that.” I said, stifling a laugh. “It needs to be unfolded.” 

“I beg to differ.” He responded, feigning a frown as he took the shirt to the clothesline. 

“If that shirt is wrinkled to the Fade and back, it’s not my fault.”

“Well,” he laughed. “It’s not my shirt.” 

The rest of the clothing part went smoothly, if not slowly, without further Cullen related clothing casualties. Then came the hard part.

“Andraste’s tits, how do you wash this thing?” I said, holding up Cullen’s trademark fur coat. 

“Carefully,” he smiled, his hands working on cleaning his greaves. 

“If you didn’t wear this stuff all the time, maybe we wouldn’t have to clean it so often…” I mumbled, trying to brush through the coat with little success.

I heard him laugh from beside me. “It’s important to maintain our defenses at all times.” 

“Must you wear this coat to do that?” I moaned, trying to comb an unidentified piece of food out of the ball of fur in my lap.

“Well, that’s something for me. And you, sometimes.” 

I blushed a tiny bit and focused on the momentous task in front of me. Cullen was able to shine and clean an entire set of armor before I was satisfied with my job on the coat, and by then the sun was well on its way down, tinting the sky shades of blue and orange.

“See? I told you it’d be quick.” I said sarcastically, poking him in the ribs. 

“Yes, well…” Suddenly, he picked me up and carried me bridal-style away from the carnage of laundry day and headed up a nearby hill.

“What are you doing?” I gasped, holding tightly to his neck - I wasn’t risking a fall, because Maker’s breath, grass stains are a pain to get out of clothes.

He didn’t respond and continued forward, eventually stopping at the top of the hill. He put me down gently and pointed at the sky. “Look,” he said, slightly out of breath. 

The sunset danced in the dying sky, now painting the clouds vibrant colors of red and purple and pink. It reminded me of paintings I had seen in the hallways of Halamshiral, warm and full of life with no care in the world. It was beautiful.

“Thank you, Cullen,” I whispered, wonder filling my voice. “but I still hate laundry day.”


	4. Night In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before the Inquisition ends, before the day on the battlements, something else happened.

I am exhausted.

The Inquisition is a beautiful, terrible thing. I’ve met many great people here, but Maker, I’ve lost so much too.

The thing I’ve lost the most, though, is time. 

But tonight’s different. I’m not losing anything tonight. 

It all started with a quiet message I received among the flurry of war table negotiations and meetings with snobby nobles. It read;

My office, tonight. 

\- C

I was intrigued. Cullen and I were friends, but a personal summons was unprecedented. I prayed his intentions are pure, and that the note was actually from him and not some sort of twisted trick. Although, the messy handwriting practically proved its authenticity. 

The rest of the day passed by slowly. It was all a blur; a tiring, harsh blur that made my bones ache and my body beg for repose. I had almost forgotten about the note until I passed by Cullen’s quarters that night.

I approached the large oak doors tentatively, unsure of what I might find within, and I knocked. I heard hurried footsteps echo through the room, and a familiar voice suddenly spoke:

“Inquisitor?” The door swung open, revealing a softly lit figure standing in front of me, shifting from foot to foot nervously.

“Hello.” I smiled. “What did you need, Cullen?”

“I, ah… I was hoping to spend some time with you,” He said bluntly. “if you’d like to.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You… You’ve been under so much pressure, I wanted to…” His voice lowered. “I wanted to help you.”

“I…” I paused, hesitant to take this step forward in our relationship. But after a moment of contemplation, I walked in, nodding in agreement as I did so. “That sounds lovely.”

He let out a sigh, his shoulders shrugging down a bit. “Thank the Maker.” He walked to his desk and pulled out a bottle, some sort of alcohol - it didn’t matter to me what kind. “Would you like…”

“Yes,” I interrupted. “I would absolutely love a drink.”

He smirked. “One of those days, Inquisitor?” He poured out a blood-red liquid into a small cup, and then another, the sound echoing through the tall, empty room. 

“Aren’t they all?”

The night passed by in snapshots as we talked about everything; family, the Inquisition, ourselves, our likes, our dislikes…

“My sister, Mia, she’s been asking about you,” Cullen laughed. His laugh was hearty, full; it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “She wants to know about the legendary Inquisitor.”

“And?” I said, taking a sip of my drink. “Have you been insulting me behind my back?”

“Maker, no,” he sighed. “It’s just… I don’t know how to describe you.”

“I’d start with cute.” The words slipped off my loosened tongue, smelling of wine and undeclared sentiments.

“I would too,” he said over the tip of his glass. 

I stared at him, not fully realizing what had just happened. Cullen? Flirting? I didn’t know the man knew the definition of the word. And yet…

“You would? What other words would you use?”

I swear, the man almost spat out his drink at that. “Um, well, I…” He suddenly seized up, just then realizing the predicament he had found himself in. 

“Hmmm?” I pushed. 

“I’d say… courageous. And brave.” He stumbled, his eyes avoiding meeting mine.

“Those are the same thing.”

He looked away from me. He seemed to be scanning the room, looking for something to say. “Well,” he said eventually, standing up from his seat next to me. “tonight has been interesting.”

I stood up next to him, facing him. “What’s this about, Cullen? You’re acting strange.”

“I…” He couldn’t speak. I couldn’t either. Our faces were, like in every cliche romance novel I had ever read, inches apart. I could feel his breath on my skin, and my heart felt like it was about to burst.

“Is this okay?” I said, curling my arms around his shoulders, our bodies coming together in a soft embrace. He felt warm, like the sunlight hitting my back, and I realized for the first time what love could be. His heartbeat matched mine; it was a race to see whose would break first.

“Yes,” he managed to breathe. His arms found their way around my waist, and we were soon pressed together; I could taste the wine on his tongue. I prayed I would have the chance to do this again when we weren’t tipsy. 

His hands slowly found their way to my face, cupping it and keeping me close to him. Kissing him felt like heaven. It was a repose, a pause, a moment away from the chaos outside, and I wanted to stay there, suspended in time, forever; If I could choose one instant in my life to live again, it would be that first kiss. The electricity, the comfort in the excitement; it was beautiful. 

Maker, I didn’t lose anything that night.

**Author's Note:**

> All of these days will be posted to this work, and can also be found on my tumblr, daydreamingforhim.tumblr.com. Thank you for reading! x


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